Chapter 143
We had to take full responsibility for the supplies in this war.
These guys were terrible at logistics.
Even if they tried to prepare things on their own, how long could they really last?
They were simple-minded folk who knew how to fight but didn’t understand what a war truly entailed.
The Beastn believed they could focus solely on fighting because they trusted that we would firmly support them from behind.
In fact, the Horse Tribe had even requested winter provisions along with their supplies, and I gladly agreed.
Anyway.
Preparing food wasn’t the issue — the real problem was transportation and storage.
This wasn’t going to be a battle that ended in half a day, so I had to plan ahead.
‘Supply is a serious matter.’
The most convenient option was, of course, jerky.
If I could secure enough jerky in bulk, that would already solve half the problem.
Especially since Beastn went crazy for at — throw them heaps of jerky and they wouldn’t complain one bit.
‘But that’s easier said than done.’
Jerky was a popular trade item with the Beastn, so we had been producing it steadily for quite so ti.
Even after setting aside what we needed for ourselves, we still had quite a bit stocked up.
The problem was that it looked like far more troops would be mobilized than we had anticipated.
After all, I hadn’t expected a war to break out this year.
Since I hadn’t prepared for war, our stock was severely insufficient.
‘And this isn’t sothing you can fix in a day or two.’
Even now, jerky was being dried all over the territory, but I doubted we could secure enough to satisfy .
War was a monster that devoured money.
The consumption would be far greater than usual — how was I supposed to handle that?
I couldn’t help but think of another alternative.
‘Canned at would be just right.’
I hadn’t even considered mixing beans and flour into so kind of combat ration.
If I served sothing like that to the Beastn, morale would plumt.
So in the end, it still had to be at.
And when it ca to at that could be eaten easily in the field, only canned at ca to mind.
That was about the extent of my knowledge.
My plan was simple.
Boil so Horned Rabbit at, grind it up with a crusher, add a bit of seasoned brine, compress it, seal it inside tal Sli cans, then boil it again for storage.
I wouldn’t know the result until I actually made it, but I expected it to be reasonably edible.
“What? Hey, how are we supposed to make that right now?”
But I hit a snag right from the start.
Bad news — we couldn’t make a grinder, sothing I thought would be easy.
When I asked Peter to make one, the guy looked thrilled to death.
“Why not? You made a press machine just fine.”
I had my reasoning.
We had already built a press machine to extract peanut oil.
So I figured if we could make a press, why not a grinder?
But that was an assumption born from ignorance.
“That’s because the Builders helped. I’m an Alchemist, rember?”
“The Builders… ah, right, they’re all deployed over there now.”
The versatile Builders of the Golem School had a fair amount of chanical knowledge, and thanks to their help, the press machine had been completed.
The issue was that those Builders were now all dispatched to the Cow Tribe’s territory, enchanting weapons.
That, too, was an important task, so I couldn’t pull them back.
“And do you have any idea how long it took to make that thing?”
Ti was another problem.
We weren’t talking about so household grinder.
To make one capable of grinding large amounts of at at once would take a lot of preparation.
It wasn’t sothing Peter could whip up just because I asked.
“Ah, is this project dood then?”
My canned at project was about to sink before it even began.
Then, a chieftain from the Mouse Tribe ca to .
He suggested that we try making it without a grinder.
“Is that even possible?”
“As long as it’s edible, isn’t that enough?”
“Is that so?”
“In fact, we’ve made sothing similar before.”
As expected of the Mouse Tribe, who already made peach preserves, they had once made canned at too.
They had boiled sliced at in salt brine, pressed it tightly, sealed it in a Sli container, and then boiled it again for storage.
It was apparently edible.
Sothing like a slightly different form of pressed at?
That actually sounded fine.
‘Yeah, better than any flour-based preserved food. At least it’s still at.’
So I decided to go ahead with it.
Improving quality could wait until after the war.
Given the Beastn’s lack of proper storage facilities, canned at would be a highly attractive item — even the increasingly hostile South might seriously covet it.
So I planned to refine it later, but for now, the priority was to produce as much as possible, as quickly as possible.
A few days later, the finished product arrived before .
It was made from boiled Horned Rabbit at, cooked in brine seasoned with salt, pepper, herbs, and natural spices, pressed, and sealed in a Sli container — a proper canned at product.
Peter had gone crazy all night modifying the press machine, but sohow, he’d managed to make it work.
“Let’s see… hmm.”
I opened the Sli container and took the at out.
Nothing particularly special about the appearance — just pressed at.
The aroma wasn’t bad, and the texture was decent enough.
“The real question is the taste. So then…”
I cut a piece and popped it into my mouth.
First ca the salty flavor, followed by the distinctive aroma of Horned Rabbit filling my mouth.
It couldn’t compare to properly cooked Horned Rabbit, and it was a little inferior to jerky, but it was better than I expected.
And best of all, though it required a bit more effort, it could be made much faster than jerky.
“So this is the new field ration?”
“You’ve made sothing quite curious, Lord Iron.”
“Heh, and you plan to sell this to other territories?”
I didn’t want to judge it alone, so I gathered a small panel of judges — Leisha, representing the Beastn; Irene, for the Humans; and Yuria, representing the rchants.
They all bit into the at with serious expressions.
“Hmm, salted at. Far too good for lowly warriors.”
Leisha passed, for now.
Well, she wasn’t much of a standard to begin with— not when it ca to at.
Still, most of the Beastn who would actually be eating this were about the sa level as Leisha.
It seed perfectly suitable as field rations.
‘Well, first objective achieved, I suppose.’
—It seems best to make as many of these as possible, Master.
Satisfied with Leisha’s evaluation, I turned to the others.
Irene chewed the at slowly, savoring it, then gave her verdict—it was decent enough.
“You’re storing it in Sli containers, right? Then how long can it last?”
“Quite a while, I’d say.”
“Then that’s good. Sli containers are convenient to transport too, right? You can even reshape them however you like.”
“If we stack them neatly in square shapes, even one wagon-load would hold quite a bit.”
“Exactly. I approve.”
Unlike Leisha, who didn’t care about anything except taste, Irene considered the efficiency of supply.
Jerky might be easier to carry, but this was efficient enough for use.
This should be quite useful in the coming war.
“Selling it… that’s sothing to think about. Honestly, it feels wasteful to use good Horned Rabbit at like this.”
“You think so too?”
The only one who gave a negative opinion was Yuria.
She thought the product would need a lot of improvent before being sold comrcially.
I agreed to so extent.
I had already planned to refine it after the war anyway.
Still, I believed it could sell reasonably well even as it was.
After all, sealed containers capable of long-term storage were rare in this world.
Even before the Great Cataclysm, such airtight containers didn’t exist, from what I’d heard.
Regardless of how the contents tasted, the re fact that they could be stored long-term gave the product value.
Especially now, in these unstable tis.
“Then let’s make as many as we can.”
Once the evaluation was done, we moved straight into mass production.
First, I asked the Cat Tribe, who didn’t have much else to do, to collect tal Slis in bulk.
They weren’t exactly enthusiastic about it.
They were the only Beastn not eager to join this war— the kind more concerned about survival than fighting.
Still, when I offered to trade tal Sli for other goods, they brought in piles of it.
Lacking enthusiasm, perhaps, but they were fast workers— perfect for gathering tal Sli.
“Co on, move it! Hurry, hurry!”
“Careful, one wrong step into that giant cauldron and you’ll end up as boiled squirrel!”
“Chop it up! No need to make it pretty—just fast! And watch your hands!”
“All Slis must be the sa size and shape! So they stack perfectly!”
The entire process of making the canned at was left to the Mouse Tribe.
Most of them had experience making canned at or similar things, and they were the only ones capable of properly handling tal Sli.
‘They were clumsy at first, but they’re doing fine now.’
—That’s because they lacked experience. This will be good practice for the Mouse Tribe too.
The Mouse Tribe had never worked together on sothing involving multiple villages before.
So at first, they fumbled a lot and made plenty of mistakes.
But after a few repetitions, everyone started doing their part smoothly.
As expected from survival experts who couldn’t live without diligence— they were incredibly hardworking folk.
“Lord Iron, a communication just ca in from the Cow Tribe’s territory. It’s Sir Rudick.”
Just as the finished products were starting to pile up, a ssage arrived from the Cow Tribe’s domain.
The sender was Rudick.
That ant the quiet Imperial bastards were finally showing signs of movent.
“So, a rchant ca again? What did he say this ti?”
—Nothing new. Just repeating what he said before.
“‘Let’s drive out the Empire together,’ that one?”
—That’s right.
“So what did you do?”
—I told him we’d see about it and sent him off. What else could I do?
“Good. Let’s stall for now.”
—Understood. But we should start preparing soon. That man kept snooping around quite a bit.
“Of course. He was there to spy, after all.”
The reason those bastards kept sending rchants was simple.
To deceive and lure in the Cow Tribe, and to spy on their situation.
Since it was only natural that they’d send people again, we made so preparations of our own.
We drew a strengthening magic circle on the Cow Tribe’s fortress walls— but left it dormant for now.
So at the mont, things didn’t look much different than before.
‘If they let their guard down, they’ll regret it.’
Once that magic circle was activated,
not even Aura could easily break through the walls.
‘Looks like those bastards are getting ready to move too.’
They had once again inspected the Cow Tribe’s territory before returning.
With the harvest complete, the Cow Tribe’s granaries were full of grain— enough to make anyone drool.
Just as Rudick said, it was ti for us to make our own preparations.
“But what about the Dog Tribe? Why haven’t we heard from them?”
At the very least, we needed the Dog Tribe to arrive before we could see the bigger picture.
“…They’ve co.”
And at that mont— new writing began to appear on the Dog Tribe’s shamanic ssage paper.
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